Page 113 of Ensnared

“Can you hear him when he speaks?” I’ve wondered that for a while.

They can hear me when I want them to, Azar says.

“I heard that just then,” Sammy says. “That’s pretty cool. Maybe I can learn one day.”

“It’s not that great,” I mutter.

All blessed will meet at my tower in three hours. Azar’s voice felt like it was set to blast on that last message.

“You don’t need to be that loud,” I say. “We’re all right here.”

He just summoned all the blessed, Gordon says. We should get you all settled first.

“Why’d you do that?” I’m not that keen on seeing all the dragons in the same place again.

It’s time we tell them about your promotion. Before I can complain, he launches into the sky, leaving the others to struggle their way to the new digs on the ground.

24

When I was twelve years old, I waited in line for over four hours to do the Avatar ride at Disney World. My dad complained nonstop, mostly about how much he could have made if he had been at work. He had his phone, and I know he was working, even in line. Even my mom grumbled about how silly it was to spend so long on something that wasn’t really going to enrich my life. Jade was a baby, and playing with her while we waited was not fun. I recall that part vividly.

Even so, those four hours were well worth it.

That ride mimicked flying, and it was the closest I thought I’d ever get to really being up in the air. Water sprays in your face, air puffs against you, and the machine you’re sitting on bumps up and down. With a little imagination, you really feel like you’re flying.

It was a highlight in my childhood for sure.

Flying on Azar was fun before. I mean, it was a pee-your-pants-in-horror kind of fun, but fun nonetheless. But now? With this new, improved bond?

It’s bananas.

My fear of falling’s utterly gone, and unlike before, I intuitively know when he’s going to shoot upward, when he’s going to bank, and when he’s going to dive. The world practically races past down below us, the wind whipping through my hair completely unlike the little bursts of air I liked so much on that ride. The upswings and drops feel unlike anything I ever could have imagined—they blow that Avatar ride out of the air, literally.

I thought we were headed to the tower, I say, switching to telepathic communication thanks to the insane air interference.

The bond’s bright green—pleasure, I’m recognizing—when Azar replies. We have time. They’re slow.

He’s playing.

No, not quite.

He’s showing off, I realize.

For me.

I lean lower over his neck and ask, “How fast can you go?”

I’m not sure whether I’ve ever checked.

I already know we’re about to find out. He coasts for a single beat, and then he inhales deeply and shoots forward, the propulsion from his wings clearly not the only thing moving us forward.

Magic, he answers my unasked question. The blessed are magical creatures in our core, after all.

And then I can’t speak or even form thoughts, we’re moving so fast. I have no idea how far we go, but it’s far enough that jets fall in behind us, so we’re definitely out of Houston’s airspace.

“Oh, shoot,” I shout.

Don’t worry. We’ll head back soon. They won’t be able to keep up.